


Lose Control of Your Vocal Cords for Me, Baby

by mustehelmi



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: 3+1 Things, Bottom James T. Kirk, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Insecurity, Jealousy, M/M, One Shot, Purring, Slice of Life, Smut, Soul Bond, Top Spock, Vulcan Biology, Vulcan Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24880546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mustehelmi/pseuds/mustehelmi
Summary: Three times Jim doesn't hear Spock purr and one time he does.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 67
Kudos: 586





	Lose Control of Your Vocal Cords for Me, Baby

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a response to the anonymous prompt I got on tumblr: "Vulcans purr. This is news to Jim"
> 
> (It's obvious that the title's "Purr for Me, Baby", right?)

1\. CHIEF MEDICAL OFFICER LEONARD “BONES” MCCOY

“Bones, did you know Vulcans can purr?” Jim asks and turns to look at his Chief Medical Officer and best friend, who is peering head first inside the cupboard hidden at the back of the office.

“I swear I had more of this left the last time I put it back,” Bones grumbles as he straightens, an almost empty bottle in hand. He sinks heavily into his own chair across the desk and pours two glasses of Saurian brandy while frowning. Once having sipped his drink, his mood improving with the taste, Bones leans back to take in Jim and the PADD he holds up.

“As a matter of fact, I did. I think they’re embarrassed about it, but Spock purred once when he was healing. Self-relaxation, M’Benga called it. Cats are known to do it when they give birth. Helps with the pain.”

“So you’ve heard him purr?”

Bones nods and takes another sip. Jim lowers the PADD and picks up his own glass, a thoughtful look in his eyes.

“I’ve never heard Spock purr.” Jim purses his lips and taps the PADD. “Vulcans are supposed to purr when they’re feeling relaxed and safe.” The question, _doesn’t he trust me enough to feel safe around me?_ is left hanging in the air between them.

“I told you, they’re embarrassed by it. If you ask Spock about it, I’m sure he’ll have a completely logical explanation for you. Something about Vulcans having no feelings or the like.” Bones continues to mumble something about green blood and hobgoblins into his brandy, but Jim tunes him out.

“Yes, but we all know Vulcans aren’t actually unfeeling. Spock wouldn’t insist we shared quarters, slept in the same bed and tell me he loves me if he didn’t feel anything for me.”

Bones scrunches up his nose and drains his glass, before reaching for the bottle again. He offers to pour some more for Jim too, who declines, his glass still full. “Is that what this is about? You don’t need to doubt his word, Jim, he wouldn’t lie, not about this.”

“No, of course not.”

For the first time since Jim entered his office tonight, Bones pauses and takes a good look at his Captain over the rim of his glass. Anyone else, besides Bones himself and Spock, of course, would say that James T. Kirk looks as smug and content as always, relaxing in his chair like it’s his throne, unafraid to take space and voice his thoughts. But Bones sees the tightness around his friend’s eyes and the corners of his lips, the subtle tension in his shoulders when he flexes his fingers against the armchair.

“If you’re really troubled by this,” Bones says and lowers his glass, “maybe you should bring it up with him.”

Jim remains silent, so Bones leans in over the table, his brandy momentarily forgotten.

“Unless there's something else on your mind you want to share?”

This shakes Jim out of his thoughts. He smiles and raises his glass in a cheer, which Bones doesn’t return. Once he’s emptied his glass, Jim slaps his thighs and gestures to leave, PADD tucked under his arm.

“Good night, Bones. And thank you.” Jim waves a hand in Bones’ direction. “For the brandy.”

“Good night,” Bones says from where he’s left sitting in his office to contemplate the universe and its mysteries by himself. Eventually, he shrugs and picks up his glass again, scoffing “stubborn fool” under his breath.

Spock is already in the captain’s quarters when Jim enters. He had work in the labs for the evening, studying yet another “fascinating” rock that is just like the other rocks they picked up on their most recent mission, but must have finished up earlier than expected.

Though it might sound like Jim doesn’t pay attention to the details of all scientific experiments and research going on at his ship, he genuinely does. It’s just that he doesn’t have access to that endless reserve of patience that Spock does; he prefers the bigger picture and the occasional zooming in on one detail or the other, and then to leave the nitpicking for those who are so inclined, while he moves on to the next thing. Without Spock and his team’s work, there wouldn’t be any voyages through spaces. All that data is vital for the Federation to allow Jim on any missions at all.

While Jim is simultaneously proud and in awe of his bondmate’s work, he would love to have him more often to himself. As it is, Spock spends far too much time huddled in those labs of his, leaving Jim to do his paperwork by himself or to spend his evenings drinking the contents of Bones’ not so secret guilty pleasure cabinet.

“Spock! Back already?” he says and tosses the PADD on their bed, before undressing. The boots go first – they’ve both agreed that their shared space is to be treated with the same respect as any home, and thus, this is the one place on the ship where comfort goes before anything else. Jim curls his toes into the soft carpet while changing into loungewear.

“Carstairs insisted on relieving me early. I have already meditated.”

Jim hums and Spock orders tea for them both from the replicator. They settle at their tiny table across from each other, steaming mugs in hand and fluffy slippers on their feet. Spock’s serenity reaches Jim through their bond and Jim tries to absorb that quiet comfort, but can’t quite find the right position in his chair to do so.

“Is something bothering you?” Spock asks and Jim averts his gaze, which lands on the PADD lying on his bed. _Their_ bed – it’s been theirs for quite some time now. Spock mostly uses his own quarters for meditation these days.

“It’s nothing,” Jim says as Bones’ words ring in his ears. Spock’s expression remains unchanged, as if he knows that Jim has more to say before he can properly evaluate the situation and give Jim the most logical answer. That alone (though the Saurian brandy still in his system certainly doesn’t hurt either) is enough for Jim to plow forward. “Or actually, I learned this interesting little thing today.”

“Yes?”

Jim bites his lip and looks Spock in the eye, before blurting, “do Vulcans purr?”

Spock raises one eyebrow. “We do. Is this what you learned today?”

Nodding, Jim doesn’t let Spock’s peculiarity distract him. “I just came to think I’ve never heard you purr.”

“Ah. That’s nothing unusual. Us Vulcans tend to be very tight-lipped about some aspects of our bodies, as you well know by now. This purring sound, as you call it, is one of them. When left uncontrolled, it is triggered by our emotions. It is shameful among our kind to be caught off guard in that way.”

Looking down at his hands, Jim nudges the handle of his tea mug. “I see.”

“Is there something else?”

“Bones told me he had heard you purring. In sickbay, once.”

“That would be correct, Captain. I-”

“Jim,” Jim says, because even though he knows that Spock doesn’t mean to create any distance between them by calling him by his title, Jim feels like he’s being held at an arm-length, and right now, he doesn’t want to hear it. Damn Bones and his brandy! But Spock doesn’t miss a beat, and picks off where he left.

“Jim. I was emerging from my healing trance and had yet to regain full control of my vocal cords. An embarrassing moment, I suppose.”

“I understand.”

“And yet you still look troubled.”

“I’m not.” Jim gets on his feet and waves Spock’s questioning look away, smoothing over the prodding coming from Spock through their bond. “I was just wondering why you hadn’t done it around me, that’s all.”

“As I said, it is widely regarded as something embarrassing we must learn to control as children. Vulcans do not wish to lose control of our vocal cord any more than of our bladder, though the aftermath is easier to deal with.”

Jim grimaces. “I think that’s an unfair comparison.”

The utmost corner of Spock’s lips turn slightly upwards. “Perhaps so.”

Later, when they’re lying in bed together, naked with their legs entwined and Jim’s head cushioned on Spock’s chest, his fingers playing with the curls of chest hair on his bondmate’s pliant body, he thinks of how foolishly he’s behaving. Bones’ admission of having heard Spock purr had managed to stir something in him. He’d call it jealousy, if he had to categorize it somehow, but why would he? Jealousy; what an unproductive emotion.

And so what if Bones has heard Spock purr once and Jim hasn’t ever? There are hundreds of things Spock has given and shared with Jim that Bones has no idea of, and never will either. Like what it feels like to swallow down his cock until you’re buried in his neatly trimmed pubic hair, or feel Spock’s talented tongue twirl around your navel, or to fall asleep curled in the crook of his hot arm, or trace his eyebrows while he rests under your touch, or embrace the love flowing through their bond, or-

Yes, jealousy is such an unproductive emotion. Jim has no need to feel such a thing. Spock is his bondmate and trusts him explicitly, purring or not.

2\. HEADNURSE CHRISTINE CHAPEL

Jim had almost forgotten about Vulcans purring the next time it came up. Busy with going over reports and approving the little projects going on around the Enterprise – most of them submitted by the Chief Engineer – he sent a small landing party down to ROU-972, the class M planet they’re orbiting, to check on the research station on the planet’s surface. Among the people beaming down was both Spock and Nurse Chapel, but Jim didn’t think twice about leaving them to do their jobs, despite that Chapel’s huge crush on Spock had at a point been the worst kept secret on the entire Enterprise. They are, after all, professionals, and Spock and Jim are in a wonderful, trusting relationship. Chapel has moved on long ago, and even if she hadn’t, she is a woman of good character and wouldn’t try to make a pass on a bonded man.

They didn’t have any urgent business on ROU-972; they were to pick up some samples and restock basic supplies for the eighteen people stationed on the planet. And while Jim discourages dillydallying, he didn't mind when the party stayed a little longer than expected on the surface, as he knew that Spock would keep an eye on the others. What surprised him was the report from the expedition – one of the planet’s native animals the researchers have more or less “adopted” had injured one of its six legs and Nurse Chapel agreed to give it a look. The extremely affectionate, but shy animal wouldn’t calm down enough for her to examine the wound, so she asked Spock to hold it in his lap while she worked. But the panicked animal fought Spock, too - until he started purring.

“I think the little sweetheart fell in love with him,” Chapel stage-whispers a few seats down the table, her meal barely touched for all the talking she’s been doing this lunch hour. “It climbed right up Mr. Spock’s pant leg each time he placed it down on the floor.”

Lieutenant Uhura laughs. Jim tries not to be obvious about listening in, but he has only read the report and hasn’t had the chance to ask Spock about the incident on ROU-972. It’s not like any of it is important for the Captain to know – it’s mainly just gossip, a fun story to tell your crewmates over some food.

“But I have to say, that purring sound he made was soothing. I don’t blame the little one, I wouldn’t have minded him keeping it up myself.” Chapel sighs dramatically. “It made me miss cats. Wonder if he purrs like that in bed too.”

“Christine!” Uhura says and swipes at Chapel’s hand, giggling. Her eyes find Jim’s and a slight blush rises to her cheeks. Her voice is more subdued when she speaks next. “Why don’t you ask the Captain that?”

Chapel follows Uhura’s gaze, looking startled when Jim smiles at her. He waves at them, and gathers his things; he doesn’t have time for a long lunch. Mountains of reports wait for him to be read and signed. And it’s not like he doesn’t know that he and Spock being bonded is a hot topic among his crew, but he does prefer not to hear about it – he knows from experience how crude a bored and horny group of young Starfleeters can get.

“Sorry, sir,” Chapel calls when he rises, but Jim shrugs it off.

“Don’t worry, Nurse. Just don’t try to come up with any other replacements for cats while aboard. We don’t want a repeat of the tribble situation.”

Chapel and Uhura exchange glances, the latter grimacing. “Yes, sir.”

“I read your report,” Jim says in the middle of his and Spock’s chess game. It’s been quiet between them for the most part of their two and a half games, all of which Jim has lost so far. He’s only going through the motions as his mind wanders and Spock is too good of a player to be beaten without any effort or consistent strategy. Despite this, Spock hasn’t questioned Jim and simply let him be. Sometimes they spend their evenings like this, together in companionable silence while Jim recharges. Spock meditates to keep his mind sharp, but Jim is human and sometimes after a long day of work he needs to switch off his brain. Even though Spock can’t relate, he does understand this kind of tiredness, and never complains even though playing is less exciting when Jim doesn’t catch his subtle attacks.

“About today?”

Jim nods and moves his bishop to threaten Spock’s tower. “I also heard Nurse Chapel talk about your . . . incident. I thought you said purring was considered shameful?”

“It is on Vulcan, when uncontrolled or triggered by emotions. Today, however, I purred deliberately to calm down a young creature that was unable to understand our language or foresee our actions. I was in full control of my vocal cords the whole time and purred for logical reasons, thus one could argue there was nothing shameful about it. The creature was scared, but could instinctively understand I meant it no harm. A mindmeld would’ve accomplished the same thing, but in its nervous state, a meld could’ve distressed it further before it had the chance to recognize my intentions. We communicated our understanding of each other by purring.”

“It purred back?” Jim can’t help smiling, even though Spock moves the tower from his bishop’s reach, to threaten Jim’s queen.

“Affirmative.”

“You must’ve made quite the pair, then.”

“Indeed. Once it discovered we could communicate, it refused to part from me. The researchers had to hold it back when we beamed up, otherwise it would’ve followed me here too.”

Jim laughs and his amusement echoes through their bond. The muscles in Spock’s face don’t so much as twitch, but the mirth in his eyes shines bright.

“You know, I overheard Nurse Chapel talking about missing having a cat at lunch. Maybe I must remind you too of our no pet policy?”

“No need, Jim. I hope you refreshed her memory on the trouble we had with the tribbles?”

“You can count on that.”

“Then all is well.”

Shooting Spock a mischievous grin, Jim playfully shakes his head. “For so long.”

Spock agrees and they resume playing in silence. Jim can’t dismiss the nagging feeling of having left out Chapel’s comment about Spock purring in bed though, partly because it concerns him, partly because Jim feels the need to point out that Chapel has heard Spock purr, but he himself still hasn’t. And it is a ridiculous thought, all right, he knows that. Spock explained that Vulcans thought purring is embarrassing after all and Jim would never wish Spock to feel ashamed of himself because of him. To insist Spock purr for Jim would be pushing his bondmate out of his comfort zone just because Jim feels a little left out.

Frowning at the game before him, Jim reminds himself once again that he and Spock are both mature adults in a loving relationship. Just because Spock has never accidentally or intentionally purred around Jim to show his contentedness means nothing when compared to the facts. He moves his tower, which Spock knocks off the board with his own. An embarrassing rookie mistake, but Spock doesn’t comment.

Jim swallows. “Nurse Chapel said something else too. About you.”

“Oh?” Spock sounds unbothered, politely curious at best.

“She praised your purring for being soothing and wondered-” Jim cuts himself off and leans closer to watch Spock move his queen to threaten Jim’s remaining tower and bishop. He would have to choose which one to sacrifice. “Damn it, Spock.”

“You’ve been easily diverted tonight. What were you saying, Captain?” Spock asks, still pleasantly, though he radiates slight smugness through their bond.

“Nurse Chapel wondered if you purr in bed,” Jim spills, keenly watching Spock’s expression and tuning into their bond. It’s not as easy for him to sense what goes on in Spock’s soul as it is for Spock to read Jim, because he is no telepath and diving into the Vulcan mind is like waking up disoriented in the middle of a maze. But he can get a general sense of the stronger emotions rising in Spock’s mind, unless they’re filed away before he can catch onto them.

The bond doesn’t react, except for the faint amusement that Jim can also detect in Spock’s tone. “What did you tell her?”

“Nothing. She didn’t expect me to hear it. She apologized and that was that.”

“Understandable.” Spock doesn’t avert his gaze. “Well, Captain. Do I?”

“Do you what?”

“Purr in bed.”

Jim’s jaw drops before he can catch himself, and a surprised smile creeps across his lips. “Stop messing around. You know you don’t.”

“I believe this is the part when I should say-” Spock pinches his brows in mock concentration “-’just checking’.”

Laughing, Jim shakes his head, but at the same time he wonders if it would be such a bad thing even if Spock did purr every now and then. 

  
  


3\. ETHOLOGIST SAVA POLAT

Six days after Enterprise departed from ROU-972, Jim enjoys a quick lunch at mess and finds that he has about two thirds of his lunch hour left to spend however he sees fit. It’s been a while since he last had time to visit the labs and truly look over the projects his people worked on down there. Jim trusts Spock explicitly, but it is good for the crew’s morale to bask in their Captain’s attention and respect for what they do too, not only their First Officer and Science Officer’s interest. It wouldn’t hurt to see Spock too and order him to take a break. Vulcans may not need to eat as often as humans do, but that doesn’t mean Spock couldn’t use a moment to meditate and center himself while his co-workers eat.

With this in mind, Jim steps into the first lab he comes across. His attention is immediately drawn to Spock at the back of the lab, where he stands in parade rest and talks to a much shorter figure holding a stack of PADDs in their arms. Jim recognized the crewmember as ethologist Sava Polat. Spock has often spoken highly of them – they’re hard-working and capable, and even though they prefer working alone, they can be a good team player when needed. Polat is part of a team that primarily focuses on animal communication and behavior. It’s important to establish contacts with aliens all around the universe, but information on alien animals is in many cases just as important, just like studying the plant life of any given new planet is.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Spock,” Polat says in a steady voice, a slight accent to their words. “Analyzing the clip has given us a lot to work with. I hope you won’t mind if I log this into the database for others to use as well?”

“Not at all.”

“Thank you. I will immediately compile a report on my findings.” Polat shifts their weight from their left leg to the right. The pile of PADDs seem to have gotten heavy in their arms. “I firmly believe they should make some relaxation tapes with Vulcan purring. You can manipulate the sound to a much higher degree than most life forms that purr. I’m surprised that you Vulcans haven’t made it into an art form, you would surely excel at it. But now, my work is calling me. If you’ll excuse me.” Polat nods curtly at Spock and strides out the room.

“Captain,” they say as they pass Jim.

“Crewman Polat.” Jim gives their back an amused smile when the lab doors slide shut behind them. “They’re not much for chitchat, are they?”

“No.” Spock, too, is amused based on his tone. “Did you need something?”

“Not in particular, no. Just making the rounds, seeing what everyone is up to.”

Spock bows his head slightly. “I see.”

Stepping closer, Jim glances around the lab. “What is Polat working on?”

“They are studying how purring works as a means for communication between different species, inspired by the incident on ROU-972. They asked to record me while I replicated the purring sounds I had made to calm down the young creature, and then played the recording to a few of the animals onboard. Despite my absence, the recorded sound was enough for three out of four test subjects to respond by purring themselves. Polat thinks this is worth investigating further.”

“It sounds like a project too big to run on Enterprise.”

“That it is, Captain. Polat is researching possibilities for them to get funding for their own team off-ship. I am inclined to believe they will get it.”

“What a shame to lose such a good crewmember.”

Spock agrees in his typical polite manner, but his eyes are locked on Jim like he’s running mental scans over him. Briefly, Jim sympathizes with a mouse cornered by the cat. Despite Jim's self-assuredness, Spock always manages to reduce him to the prey when they play this game. It’s amusing to think that the peace-loving, vegetarian Vulcan is the predator between the two of them. Jim would be wise not to forget Vulcan history and from who exactly even the compliant and level-headed Spock has evolved from.

“What do you wish to ask me? I can sense your question.”

Jim clears his throat. “Yes… I was wondering if I could listen to that recording myself. Since Polat thought it so good.”

“I don’t see why you could not do so, though I fail to see what purpose listening to it would serve you as a Starfleet Captain.”

“Maybe I’m just curious.” Jim shrugs, like it doesn’t matter. No one is fooled by his (admittedly impressive) acting.

Spock raises an eyebrow.

And Jim relents, losing a smidge of his bravado. “Or maybe I, too, just want to experience this apparently amazing thing my bondmade can do? Everyone else seems to have done so already. It’s not a crime to show interest in your bondmate's abilities, right?”

Spock frowns. “Of course not. But you are exaggerating the-”

The lab doors slide open and in runs a young lab assistant – Crewman Diaz – with her dark curls smeared in yellow slime. She’s frantic, waving her arms and pointing down the corridor.

“Mr. Spock! Mr. Spock, it’s an emergency! Specimen A2B33 is shooting its seeds everywhere and we can’t make it stop! Please come, we don’t know what to do.”

“We will finish this discussion later, Captain. If you’ll excuse us. Lead the way, Diaz.” By Spock’s tone, Jim can tell “later” means after work. He opens his arms.

“By all means.”

Diaz is already on her way with Spock in tow and the door closes behind them, but not before Jim hears her say “this way, sir.”

So, Jim is left alone in the lab. Maybe he’ll leave today’s round here and make another attempt at a later time. He might as well go see what Bones is up to in the medical bay. Make a social call, if you will, and direct his distracted thoughts on something more productive. Maybe Bones has some hypo he’ll want to stab Jim with anyway. 

  
  


\+ 4. CAPTAIN JAMES T. KIRK

Jim goes through his stack of reports and writes his own in an empty conference room, trying to spend as much time as possible working while also not dragging his feet. Why wouldn’t he want to go back to his and Spock’s quarters and talk to his bondmate? Suggesting that he doesn’t would be ridiculous. Obviously, he wants to see that one person who he loves more than anyone. It’s just that Spock isn’t the type of man to forget things. Any earlier conversations that may or may not have been cut short will be brought right back up at the earliest possible convenience. And that means when Jim and Spock both are off-duty and in the comfortable privacy of their quarters.

It’s not that Jim is stalling, he tells himself. He’s looking out for Spock, who is the kind of unreasonable that he might insist they continue their conversation immediately, before he even has had the opportunity to mediate. He can’t locate Jim before going to his old quarters to center his mind, Spock needs his evening meditation. And Jim has the hunch that if the whole purring thing comes up again, Spock will get to the bottom of Jim’s strange behavior. And Jim will spill, because that’s just how good a detective Spock is when he sets his mind to it.

He leans back in his chair and grunts. Hunching over all these PADDs isn’t good for his neck. Jim rolls his shoulders back and stretches.

“Computer, give me the location of Mr. Spock.”

“Mr. Spock is in your quarters, sir,” the feminine voice reports. Jim thanks it by reflex and gathers up his things.

“Time to face the music,” he mutters and leaves the room. What kind of music he’ll face exactly, is uncertain. Spock wouldn’t be angry over something like this. More likely perplexed by Jim’s odd human emotions and illogical reasoning. It doesn't matter though, because Jim has never been the kind of man to shun the uncomfortable. 

The first thing Spock says when Jim enters their quarters is “Jim”. Which sometimes could be a good sign, sometimes a bad one, but Spock beginning a conversation by addressing Jim by name rather than title always means he’s putting greater than usual thought into his words in an attempt to not alert Jim by acting more Vulcan than necessary. Which in turn definitely alerts Jim to Spock’s behavior.

“I expected you sooner,” Spock says from behind Jim’s work desk, which has slowly turned into Jim’s and, maybe even more, Spock’s desk. He’s clad in his meditation robes and working on a PADD with a stylus in hand.

“Yeah, sorry, I wanted to finish up my report.” Jim puts his PADDs away and changes into his loungewear, before taking his work with him to the desk. The left side is reserved for Jim, the right side for Spock.

“I wish to speak with you.”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” Jim smiles at Spock, about to seat himself at the table.

Spock’s expression remains unchanged, though he gestures toward the edge of their shared bed. “Come sit with me.”

Jim frowns, but obeys. They sit side by side, Spock with a straight back and hands in his lap, Jim leaning back, supported by his arms. While he did expect Spock to continue their earlier conversation, the effort he’s going through to do so is slightly alarming. Unless he has something else to say?

“Is something wrong?”

“No, do not worry. Though I think there has been some sort of misunderstanding between us.”

“What sort of misunderstanding?”

Spock clasps his hands with an aura of calm, but his eyes study Jim intently. “Earlier you expressed your wish to hear me purr. I sensed that you experienced conflicting feelings while we spoke today, the same conflicting feelings as before when this topic has been brought up.”

When Spock quiets, Jim bites his lip. “And?”

“I do not understand, but evidently, I contribute to you feeling these distressed emotions. I do not wish to harm you, Jim, in any way. We must discuss this.”

Jim shakes his head. “My feelings are illogical. Not even I know why exactly I feel the way I do at any given time.”

“Still, something is bothering you. Do not lie, I can feel it through the bond.” Spock raises an eyebrow at Jim’s sigh. “I will help you bring order in your emotions. Why did you wish to listen to Polat’s recording of me purring?”

“You’re really intent to know, aren’t you?” Jim asks and raises an eyebrow of his own.

“Yes.”

“Well.” Jim regards his bare toes next to Spock’s socked ones. They have compromised on the temperature in their quarters, a little too warm for Jim and a little too cool for Spock. In Spock’s old quarters the heat is turned all the way up to be comfortable for him as a Vulcan, and the rest of the ship is about the right temperature for Jim and the other humans on the ship. Their quarters are the middle ground, and Jim doesn’t mind walking around more scantily clad if his bondmate is the only audience. ”Frankly, I just wanted to hear you purr on the recording. I suppose I feel a little left out. Everyone else seems to have heard it and they say it’s this extraordinary thing. You’re my bondmate, but I didn’t even know Vulcans could purr until quite recently.”

“Define everyone else.”

“Bones, Nurse Chapel and probably all of the landing party on ROU-972, Sava Polat and no doubt many more.”

“That is hardly ‘everyone’,” Spock says and Jim can practically see the quotation marks around “everyone”.

“Many people that aren’t me, though.” Running a hand down his face, Jim lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I can’t believe I’m saying this. Nevermind, let’s forget about the whole thing.”

“No, this is important and I cannot forget your distress.” Warmth flows from Spock to Jim through their bond, supportive and reassuring. A reminder that Spock doesn’t ask to judge, but to understand. “You said you feel left out. What else?”

A smile flashes across Jim’s face. “You sound like Bones when he’s playing therapist.”

“Please, answer me. I am trying to understand.”

Hearing Spock’s sincerity makes Jim sober up. Vulcans feel just like humans do, but the way they process their feelings couldn’t be further away from the way humans deal with their own. Spock doesn’t understand, but he wishes to, so hard. He genuinely has Jim’s best interests at heart, even though their conversations sometimes are painfully awkward for the both of them.

“I’m probably just jealous, Spock. I didn’t know you could purr and when I found out, Bones said he had heard you. The article I read said that Vulcans purr when they’re relaxed and safe and it just made me think, I’ve never heard it. But,” he hastens to add, “but I know you love me. And I know you’re ashamed of purring and I would never want to make you uncomfortable, so it’s all right. I’m going to work through these feelings and be fine.”

Spock’s eyes widen marginally and he concludes, “you feel insecure because you think I feel unsafe around you.”

“Essentially . . . I suppose, yes.”

“I see.” A look of concentration sweeps across Spock’s face. “You are wrong, Jim. I do feel safe around you. And I never said that I am ashamed of my ability to purr. Vulcans in general are, but they are ashamed about quite many things. I accepted being different compared to my peers at a young age and I have achieved inner peace. There is human blood running through my veins, but purring is a Vulcan quality. I have been shamed for doing things that are not Vulcan in the least. Being ashamed of doing something any Vulcan can do is not compatible with my logic. I have refrained from purring around you because I have had no reason to let my control lapse and I have also not wished to alienate you by making sounds that are unnatural for most humanoids, lest it unsettled you. It never occurred to me that you would want to hear such a sound from me.” Turning to look Jim deep in the eye, Spock declares, “from now on I will let myself purr, if hearing it makes you happy.”

“And you won’t feel uncomfortable doing so?” Jim asks for the lack of better words. It feels like something is clogging up his throat “a wee bit” as Scotty would say.

“Negative. I suspect it might even prove to be quite freeing.”

“Okay.” Jim clears his throat and glances at Spock through his eyelashes. “We still have to work on our communication, don’t we?”

“Affirmative, though I think we are on the right track.”

“That’s good to hear.” And Jim smiles, going for coy, though his relief no doubt shines through. “Mind if I kiss you now, mister?”

Spock raises his eyebrow and turns to face Jim fully, his voice dry with his particular brand of I-am-but-an-innocent-alien-unfamiliar-with-human-culture humor. “I thought you would never ask.”

Jim huffs out a chuckle, muffled against Spock’s lips. His hands go around Spock’s head and shoulders, his fingers carding through the silken strands as he tilts his head to deepen their kiss. His other hand slides down Spock’s arm, mapping the firm muscles beneath his robe. Spock’s fingers are eager when they twine around Jim’s, the pad of his thumb digging into his palm and massaging circles into it. Spock’s quick breath fans his face when they part, before he dives back in.

Pulling at the meditation robe, Jim tries to find more skin. Spock lowers him down on his back, before stripping his robe and revealing the strong, wiry frame underneath. Jim squirms out of his own clothes, not patient enough to stand or even attempt to mirror his bondmate’s grace. Once naked, Spock is back on him, hands exploring all of the skin available, until they settle on Jim’s face.

Their eyes meet for a heartbeat and then Spock is inside Jim’s mind, assaulting him with impressions, sensations and emotions that drown out everything else. Jim’s back bows off the bed and he’s panting, immersed in all the love Spock floods his consciousness with, only distantly aware of Spock’s finger inside him, soon replaced with his heavy cock. Just as distantly, he knows he’s babbling and that Spock is murmuring a soothing mix of Vulcan and Standard into his ear, but none of the words register over the fireworks going off behind his eyes and along every nerve in his physical body. 

Once you’ve had a Vulcan lover, you’re spoiled for everyone else, Jim thinks when Spock builds up toward their mutual orgasm, his thrusts gaining in speed and power. None of his earlier flings (and Jim’s had a healthy amount of those) could hold a candle to the pleasure Spock gives him. Maybe it is because Vulcans can mind meld and make love with not only your body, but your mind. Or maybe it is because Jim never before has had the kind of love he has with Spock.

And Jim’s full of that love, full of Spock, in both mind and body, and he never feels as alive as he does when he gives up control like this, stops hanging onto reality and trying to always be on top of everything, forgetting where he is and who he is supposed to be as a prestigious Starfleet Captain, and letting Spock show him who they are, together, and he’s so full, so full he can’t contain it, he might burst and all that love will flow free around and between them, and the pleasure gets too much, he’s floating higher and higher up and any second now he will break the surface and explode into a million tiny particles that know nothing, but what his bondmate wants him to know. . .

He spills untouched just after Spock floods his insides. Carefully, Spock lifts his fingers off Jim’s sweat-beaded face and strokes his hair back. He pulls out with just as much care and settles on his side next to Jim, who’s still catching his breath and trying to center himself in their physical reality again.

“I love you,” he groans and tilts his head to meet Spock’s eye.

“Still feeling insecure?”

Jim’s answer is honest. “No.”

The look he receives is so tender his chest aches. Nothing lowers Spock’s shields like some good loving. Spock in turn bends down to push his face into Jim’s shoulder.

Once settled, he purrs.

Jim vibrates with the deep, steady sound. He lifts one shaky hand to pet Spock’s hair and listens as his breathing evens out. And yeah, he’s slick with sweat and come, which soon will dry on his skin and get uncomfortable, but in this moment, all he wants is to soak in everything that is Spock and their love for each other.

The bond between them buzzes with emotions too primitive to name shooting back and forth. Jim sighs and closes his eyes. Just for a little while longer, he will enjoy this and forget everything else.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this fic, please leave me feedback! I post stories because part of the fanfic experience is to interact with my readers. If I didn't want to hear from you, I'd put my stuff on a memory stick and leave it on a shelf
> 
> I thank my wonderful, amazing friend Robyn for beta'ing this for me ♥
> 
> I'm [sweetsoursugarcube](http://www.sweetsoursugarcube.tumblr.com) on tumblr if you want to reach out to me


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